


Bosoms (or the Lack Thereof)

by keep_waking_up



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Crack, M/M, Mythical Beings & Creatures, Wings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-23
Updated: 2014-11-23
Packaged: 2018-02-26 17:48:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,802
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2660963
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/keep_waking_up/pseuds/keep_waking_up
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Jared’s king sends him out to a woo a maiden for him and the maiden turns out not to be a maiden.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bosoms (or the Lack Thereof)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ashtraythief](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ashtraythief/gifts).



> Written for the wonderful ashtraythief as a very, VERY belated birthday present.

_“_ King Berdok _”_

_...He wes ane stalwart man of hairt and hand;_

_He wowit the golk sevin yeir, of Maryland,_

_Mayiola, and scho wes bot yeiris thre,_

_Ane bony bird, and had bot ane e;_

_Nevirtheless king Berdok luvit hir weill,_

_For hir foirtute wes langar than hir heill._

 

 

There were times when Jared wished that his king wasn’t so open-minded.  Sure, the entire reason he’d moved to Texapolusa was because all sorts of humans—and non-humans—were accepted.  Whether someone was gay, straight, bi, a werewolf or had a vampire un-life, everyone was welcome.  Being of the human and gay variety, Jared had been aware that he didn’t have it nearly bad as some people, but he was still grateful for the refuge.

Mostly.

He’d be more grateful if the real reason for the open-mindedness of Texapolusa wasn’t because the king was an enormous horn dog who fell in love with some new and strange person every other week.  Jared might not even have minded that, if it weren’t for the fact that _he_ was the one expected to relay the king’s interest to each new and bizarre party, as the king’s scribe and friend.

He hadn’t even bothered to read the paper he’d been given ahead of time.  He’d glanced over it, seen that it looked like poetry, and had sighed.  Meanwhile, his king had continued ranting and raving about the beautiful maiden he’d seen after a night carousing with his knights.  Jared was pretty sure the king had said something about the girl being a “cuckoo,” so it was very likely he was about to go read bad poetry to some kind of bird-person, who might then peck his eyes out.

It really didn’t seem like it was going to be a good day.

Luckily, the king had already figured out where this new maiden lived, so Jared didn’t have to go hunting through the town near the castle, which he’d _certainly_ had to do before.  The king was more likely to remember how the moonlight looked on someone’s hair than other, more relevant details about them.

The latest object of the king’s affections lived just on the edge of town, in a secluded little stone cottage.  It looked well kept, except for the fact that the ground for fifty feet around the building was scorched.  Jared stared at the charred dirt for a while, debating whether it was _really_ that important that he have a job.  Then he thought about going back to the castle and having to listen to the king whine about this girl.

He strode purposefully towards the door of the cottage.  This was _clearly_ the lesser of two evils.

He rapped against the door three times.  From inside, there was the clatter of something hitting the ground, and then silence.  Jared waited for a moment, then knocked again.  This time, he got a voice in reply.  “Go away!” The woman shouted hoarsely, and Jared noted that her voice was rather low for a maiden.  “Leave me alone!”

“My apologies,” Jared said smoothly to the door.  He had the bad habit of emoting even when there was no one in front of him, and he could tell he had his most charming smile on, even though there was no one there to admire it.  Well, maybe the woman was looking out the window.  Maybe she’d think he was crazy for smiling at a door.  Clearing his throat and trying to appear confident in case she _was_ watching, Jared stated, “I have a message.”  He paused for dramatic effect.  “From the king.”

“The _what_?” The maiden squawked.  Definitely a bird person.  One could always tell by the way they got shrill.  Jared sighed and prepared himself for a headache.

“The king,” he repeated.  “He saw you last night on his way back from the tavern and he has fallen in love.”  Or lust, more likely.  Jared hadn’t known any of the king’s “loves” to last beyond a few tumbles in bed.  “He has written you a humble piece of verse and he begs that you hear it.”

Deathly silence came from the cottage.  Then, finally, the occupant asked flatly, “is this some kind of joke?”

 _I wish_ , Jared thought, but he refrained from speaking his mind.  Instead, he pasted on another insincere smile—which he hoped the door was properly appreciating—and said, “no, the king is very serious.  He’s quite taken with you and he only wants to express his love.”

“I only have to listen?” The maiden asked, her voice a little higher with the question.  It was still fairly low—lower than Jared’s own—but the king was known for having rather _singular_ tastes.

Still, it was a pleasing voice, Jared would give him that much.  It made it that much easier to smile reassuringly at the door.  “Yes.  As soon as I read this poem to you, you are free to do whatever you would like.”  He’d then be free to get back to the castle and hopefully do some _actual_ work.  He’d never thought he’d look forward to transcribing things, but that was _before_ he’d met the king.

“Alright then,” the maiden assented timidly.  “I’ll listen.  And then you can go.  Far, far away from here.”

Jared felt mildly offended, even though he doubted the woman’s desire for solitude had anything to do with _him_.  With his luck, he’d probably interrupted her in the middle of some sort of bird-person ritual.  He didn’t let any of that color his voice as he said, “of course.  I’ll be right on my way as soon as we’re done.”  He didn’t wait for another response as he cleared his throat and rolled open the scroll that contained the king’s words.  As neutrally as he could, he read out;

_When I saw you,_

_Your feathers gold and red,_

_It seemed to me you were fit_

_For a garden of green_

_To match the one eye upon your head._

_Where you might rest_

_Your large, mighty feet_

_In the dewy spring grass._

_And in the summer,_

_You might shade us with those large appendages_

_While I laid my head upon_

_Your heaving bosom—_

“What the _fuck_?!” Came a shrill voice from the cottage, and the door rocketed open, hitting Jared squarely in the nose and knocking him back onto his ass.  “I am a _man_!  Does it look like I have a _heaving bosom_?!”

Well, it was certainly heaving, was Jared’s second thought.  His first thought, understandably, was “ow.”  He grasped his nose in one hand, trying to stop the rush of blood, and looked up at the creature in front of him.  He was too stunned to have a third thought.  His fourth might have been something along the lines of “guh”, but things were still pretty fuzzy, so he couldn’t quite say.

The man in front of him—for the king’s maiden appeared to be very, _very_ male—certainly wasn’t human.  That was clear from the feathers that ran up his forearms and littered his hair.  It wasn’t as if he was covered in feathers; it was more like some kind of heavenly artist had dotted his skin with artistic patches.  The only feathers that Jared could see partially covered the skin from the backs of his hands to just below his elbows, and the rest were randomly interspersed in his hair.  And then there were the massive wings that shadowed him, as if to make him look that much more impressive.

The king had gotten their coloring right; they were all shades of red and gold.  What the king had failed to mention was that the man’s skin was a more natural golden-color, as if the sun had kissed him.  The man’s eyes—for there were two of them—were just as green as winter grass, but the king had also failed to mention the fire within them.  His perfectly normal-sized feet were attached to a comely pair of legs that bowed slightly outwards, which were in turn attached to a broad and strong-looking torso.  On top of that torso was a face that Jared doubted anyone could see and not swoon a little.

In other words, the king’s poem really had _not_ done this man any kind of justice.

Apparently, Jared had been staring in awe long enough for the other man to realize that something just might be wrong.  “Oh shit,” the man said, in that gravelly voice which was definitely not maidenly at _all_.  “I hit you with the door, didn’t I?  Oh, you’re bleeding, shit.”  Without any thought for the way Jared’s brain was exploding, the man pulled him up and into the cottage.  He seated Jared in a chair and then began rattling about, clearly looking for something.  “I swear I have bandages _somewhere_ ,” he muttered, glancing back at Jared anxiously.  “I’ll fix you right up.  Then you won’t have to tell anyone and I won’t get kicked out of the country and—”

Jared tried to speak but found that his vocal chords weren’t quite working.  Annoyed, he cleared his throat and coughed a bit.  The man came over and helpfully pounded him on the back hard enough to leave bruises.  For all that, the only thing Jared managed to say was, “what?”

The man frowned down at him.  “I really didn’t mean to hurt you, I swear.  So you don’t have to tell the king and make him kick me out.  That’s all I’m saying.  I mean, I’m trying to say I’m sorry but I’m not very good at this whole people thing and—”

“No!” Jared blurted out, and almost lost his voice again when the man turned the full force of his gaze back on him.  “No, no, the king won’t kick you out just because you accidentally opened your door on me.  It’s perfectly understandable.  I mean.  I just accused you of having a bosom.”

“Well, it wasn’t really your fault,” the man said reasonably.  “You were just reading what the king gave you.”  His eyes narrowed.  “The king _did_ give you it, didn’t he?  This _wasn’t_ a joke?”

Jared shook his head quickly, and then moaned and clutched at his nose as it reminded him that it was probably broken.  The man was instantly back in front of him, pushing his hands away from his face.  “Here, let me—” he said, and didn’t finish what he was saying, before leaning in and blowing heated air onto Jared’s nose.

At first, it seemed like a very odd thing to do.  But then Jared felt his nose tingling, and distinctly no longer aching.  Tentatively, he reached up and touched it.  No pain, and it felt like a normal nose again.  “You…” he said inarticulately, and then pinched his nose.  Very not-broken.  “You healed me!”

“Don’t go telling anyone,” the man said quickly.  “This was a one-time thing.  Just because I made it happen in the first place.  I’m not Mister Magic-Breath.”

Mister Magic-Breath-and-Super-Hot-Body sounded more accurate to Jared, but he doubted that the man would like that either.  “So, what are you then?” He asked.  “Since you just healed me with your breath, I figure I’m entitled to know.”

Flustered, the man ran a hand through his hair, ruffling the feathers so that they stuck out slightly.  “I’m Jensen,” he said finally.  “And I’m a phoenix.  I’m new to the area and kind of trying to keep a low profile.”  He snorted.  “So much for that,” he said with a gesture towards the poem, which Jared had used to stem the flow of blood from his nose.

He looked so upset that Jared felt the need to comfort him.  “Well, the king only saw you because he was out late with his knights.  And he was quite drunk, really—which I guess is clear from the description he gave.  So I don’t think you have to worry about being noticed too much.”  He paused, relieved to see that Jensen looked somewhat less sad.  “Why are you trying to hide, if you don’t mind me asking?  As I’m sure you can tell, our king is quite open to—” Jared coughed “—all manner of things.”

“Oh, I know,” Jensen said tiredly, throwing himself into the chair opposite Jared.  “That’s why I came here, you see.  I told my family some things, about, um, who I’d like to have a life with in the future, and they kicked me out of the nest.”  Jensen went right back to being desolate, absentmindedly petting one of his wings as he spoke.  “Except, well, there’s this whole species thing that I forgot about and it makes it kind of difficult to interact with other people.”  Jensen darted a nervous glance at Jared, and Jared tried to look reassuring and not like he’d been drooling over the way Jensen’s lips pouted.  “See, once a phoenix hits a certain age, their powers start coming in.  ‘Cept, you can’t really control them without a partner.  So I kinda…” He trailed off, with a helpless gesture of his hands.

“Keep burning things?” Jared guessed, thinking of the ground outside.  “Does that mean you need to, like… mate soon or something?”  He would try to keep himself from jumping up and down to volunteer, if that was the case.

Jensen flushed, and his feathers rustled as he shifted.  “Oh, no, not _mate_.  Well, you don’t _have_ to mate.  It’s just that… well, sex is the really important thing.  See, the sex kind of wears out your powers, and then your partner can help you focus them.  Except most of the time it _is_ a mate, because it’s all fairly intimate and you know…”  Jensen trailed off, biting his lip.  “You know, I’ve been telling you all this and I don’t even know your name?”

Taking the cue, Jared stuck out his hand.  “I’m Jared.  I’m the king’s scribe.  Also his friend.  Sort of.”  Jensen slid his hand into Jared’s and they shook.  Jared’s fingers brushed up against Jensen’s feathers, and he shivered before pulling away.

“Nice to meet you Jared,” Jensen said politely, and then didn’t seem to know what else to say.

They sat there in silence for a moment before Jared broached the topic again.  “So, I know a mate would be preferable.  But I’m sure you’d be able to find plenty of people to just be your partner here.  The king, for one,” he said, forcing out a laugh.  He might have to kill the king if Jensen chose him even _after_ the bosom thing.

“Erm, no thanks,” Jensen said awkwardly.  “I’ve heard his reputation.  I’m sure he’d be very… nice, but I’d rather have someone that might actually want to work towards a mate-ship with me.”  He looked down at his lap, long eyelashes casting shadows over his cheeks.  “I just…” He huffed out a big sigh.  “I don’t know what to do.”

Inching his chair a bit closer, Jared tried not to sound too eager as he spoke.  “Well, maybe I could do it?” he suggested.  When Jensen looked up at him, clearly surprised, Jared rushed to explain.  “I know we just met and everything, and it’s not like I’m already in love with you—”

“I should hope not!” Jensen interrupted.

Jared glared at him.  “ _Not_ in love with you,” he repeated.  “But, I think you’re nice, and cute, and well… I’d ask you out if it weren’t for the circumstances.  So I was thinking, maybe I can be your partner and we see where things go?  Even if we turn out not to be suited for a mate-ship, I’ll still be your partner.  But I really have a good feeling about you and me… assuming you’re interested as well?”

“I don’t know,” Jensen said slowly, and Jared was worried for a moment before he saw the sly gleam in those eyes.  “The king _did_ write me a poem complimenting my bosom.”  He leaned back, clearly provocatively.  “Do _you_ like my bosom, Jared?”

Jared’s throat was suddenly very dry.  “It’s very, uh, perky,” he said, semi-entranced by the way Jensen’s nipples were hardening under the _very_ thin material of his shirt.  “And very… male.  Which is nice!” He rushed to reassure Jensen.  “I am all about the male.”

“That’s good, seeing as I am male,” Jensen practically purred, and then he climbed into Jared’s lap.  His wings flared behind him, keeping him balanced as he straddled Jared.  He wrapped his arms around Jared’s neck and fluttered his eyelashes.  “It’s good that we like each other, if we’re going to be partners.”

“Yeah,” Jared breathed out, and then went temporarily mute again because of the way Jensen’s chest rubbed up against his.

All of a sudden, Jensen looked unsure.  “Jared?” He said questioningly.  “Am I doing this right?  I’ve never tried to seduce anyone before.”

“Uh, you’re just a little _too_ good at it,” Jared said shakily.  He was getting hard at a rather alarming rate.  He’d pass out if the blood rushed south any quicker.  “You are, like, the king of seduction.”

“Oh!”  Jensen brightened considerably.  “Good.  Good.  Does that mean we should have sex now?”

“Guh!”  Jared flailed and sputtered a bit.  It was only through some desperate flapping of Jensen’s wings that the whole chair didn’t tip over and spill them both on the ground.  Panting a little, Jared grabbed onto the sides of the chair as if that would somehow keep it upright.  “Uh, maybe bed?  ‘Cause you keep saying stuff like that and I will _definitely_ knock us off the chair.”

Laughing, Jensen got off Jared’s lap in a smooth motion that Jared would _never_ be able to imitate.  “You aren’t very coordinated, are you?”

“Not so much,” Jared agreed, and followed Jensen back into his bedroom.  It was a cozy little room, definitely something Jared would have called a nest if he wasn’t away that that was probably speciesist.  “So, uh, how do you want to do this?”

Jensen wrinkled his nose.  “Maybe we should take our clothes off?  I think that’s generally a good idea before sex.”

Jared wasn’t a virgin.  He _wasn’t_.  He hadn’t had _many_ partners, but he’d had a few.  He’d had enough that he shouldn’t have been stumbling over his own feet in his eagerness to get his clothes off and get into bed with Jensen.  With every new bit of Jensen’s skin that was revealed, Jared only got more flustered and turned on.  He didn’t think his cock had _ever_ felt as hard as it did by the time he got his pants and undergarments off.  It didn’t help that Jensen had just taken his _own_ pants off and Jared had gotten a flash of a round and perfectly golden ass, as well as a large, erect, and finely formed cock.

Jensen seemed to regain his earlier seductive confidence when he straightened up, completely nude, and caught Jared’s slack-jawed look.  He moved closer to Jared and pushed Jared until he was flat on his back on the bed, Jensen hovering over him.  Jensen seemed to have some sort of internal debate, and then Jared forgot about everything as Jensen leaned down to kiss him.

His lips were dry and hot.  Their teeth bumped together several times as they tried to figure out the right angle.  Finally, Jensen huffed out an irritated breath and clambered right on top of Jared.  “Hurting my neck,” he grumbled, and then went back to kissing Jared completely senseless.

In fact, he kissed Jared so senseless that Jared didn’t even notice the reason why the tiny little cooing noises Jensen had been making—which seemed to be the phoenix version of a moan—started getting louder and more enthusiastic, until Jensen grabbed his dick and sat down on it in one long, smooth glide.  He gasped, grabbing onto Jensen’s hips and throwing his head back.  His toes curled as he did his _very_ best not to come instantly.  When he looked back at Jensen, still in a very aroused state of shock, Jensen flashed a grin at him.  “I fingered myself while you were distracted,” he said proudly.  “You like?”

“That’s good.  Really good.  Lots of initiative there.  Double thumbs up,” Jared rambled, clinging onto Jensen.  One move would undo him, he knew it.  “God, are you gonna be this hot every time we have sex?  ‘Cause that might just kill me.”

“But in a good way, right?” Jensen asked, looking a little nervous, even though he was a thing of fucking beauty, with his hard cock, his faintly glistening chest, and his wings backing him in gold and red.  “I mean, I’m not going too fast or anything?”

“You’re perfect,” Jared told him hurriedly.  “You’re just… perfect.”

He was still dumbstruck, what could he say?

Still, it seemed to work, because Jensen smiled again.  “Good,” he said, and then he started riding Jared in earnest.  Jared couldn’t really do much beyond lie there, hands holding onto Jensen by the hips, and take it.  And _god_ , it was heaven to take.  Jensen was so hot and tight inside, and the way he _looked…_ He was a wet dream, inside and out.  Except without the wet part.  Yet.

“You’re perfect too,” Jensen gasped out as he rolled his hips, pressing Jared’s cock deeper inside him.  “You’re so _big_ and hard and hot.”  He grinned cheekily as he rose up and then slammed back down on Jared’s dick, making Jared whimper and dig his fingertips into the skin of Jensen’s hips.  “And you like my bosom.”

“Great bosom,” Jared agreed breathily, and tried to make up for his incoherence by thrusting upwards what little he could.  He was rewarded by Jensen making that weird cooing noise again.  Jensen’s eyes glittered down at him and then they were moving together, their interlocking bodies rolling in a way that was more graceful than Jared had ever been before.

Jared couldn’t help it—Jensen made some kind of purring-cooing sound and he came from the way the sound reverberated through Jensen’s body and around Jared’s cock.  He couldn’t help tossing his head from side to side a bit as he came, but managed to get his eyes open when Jensen let out a loud, shrill cry and came all over them both.

Reverently, Jared ran a hand through the mess Jensen had made of his stomach.  Dazedly, Jensen watched him from where he still sat perched on Jared’s slowly softening dick.  “Do you want me to lick it up?” He asked.

Jared’s brain short-circuited.  Again.  When he came to, he found that Jensen had seemed to take his speechlessness as assent and had begun lapping up the come like some kind of sex kitten with wings.

Jared was never going to complain about his king sending him out to woo anyone ever again.

**Author's Note:**

> END NOTE: Translation of the poem. Warning - it is my own translation from Middle Scots, so I may get a word or two wrong. I also rearranged some of the words it so it read properly.
> 
> ...He was a stalwart man of heart and hand;  
> He wooed for seven years the cuckoo of Maryland  
> Mayiola, and she was but three years old  
> A bonny bird, and had but one eye;  
> Nevertheless, king Berdok loved her well  
> For her foot was longer than her heel
> 
> The last line is most likely referring to a bird foot vs heel ratio, as opposed to a human one.
> 
>  
> 
> Thanks for reading!


End file.
